Andy Williams dead - the loss of a true greattag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a73d81cbe4970d2012-09-26T17:01:56+01:002012-09-26T16:01:56Z2012-09-26T16:01:56ZAndy Williams, who died today at the age of 84, never really received the acclaim that should have been his due. His gorgeous velvet croon wound its way around classic songs such as Moon River and Can't Get Used To Losing You (later a hit for English band, The Beat) but he was always regarded with disdain by some quarters of the media when, in truth, he should have been as heralded as Frank Sinatra. Williams surely would have been baffled at the late career lionisation of an inferior talent, Tony Bennett, who somehow managed to play a set at...DM

Andy Williams, who died today at the age of 84, never really received the acclaim that should have been his due.

His gorgeous velvet croon wound its way around classic songs such as Moon River and Can't Get Used To Losing You (later a hit for English band, The Beat) but he was always regarded with disdain by some quarters of the media when, in truth, he should have been as heralded as Frank Sinatra.

Williams surely would have been baffled at the late career lionisation of an inferior talent, Tony Bennett, who somehow managed to play a set at Glastonbury in 1998, so clueless were the music business arbiters of taste at the time.

Why was Williams undervalued? It's almost certainly down to his hosting of The Andy Williams Show, which ran on TV from 1959 to 1971, something that led to Williams becoming regarded as a 'light entertainment' figure, a kiss of death for the cool school.

Never mind. Those of us who understood his value and brilliance will not forget the great Andy Williams. Farewell Andy.

Chris Moyles is leaving the BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show - hallelujah!tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a73d81cbd5970d2012-07-11T10:48:53+01:002012-07-11T09:48:53Z2012-07-11T09:48:53ZSo Chris Moyles is off. After eight long years of assaulting our eardrums with drivel. At. Long. Last. His long-winded leaving announcement contained two clues as to why his Radio 1 Breakfast Show had haemorrhaged an astonishing 4.7m listeners since 2010. In the fifth paragraph he used the words "the show is all about me." Yes, we know Chris. That's why you've lost so many listeners. We really don't find you all that fascinating, sunshine. Your bombastic presenting style alienates more than it attracts. Frankly, you drive many of us nuts. The second clue was in the very last sentence....DM

So Chris Moyles is off. After eight long years of assaulting our eardrums with drivel. At. Long. Last.

His long-winded leaving announcement contained two clues as to why his Radio 1 Breakfast Show had haemorrhaged an astonishing 4.7m listeners since 2010. In the fifth paragraph he used the words "the show is all about me." Yes, we know Chris. That's why you've lost so many listeners. We really don't find you all that fascinating, sunshine. Your bombastic presenting style alienates more than it attracts. Frankly, you drive many of us nuts.

The second clue was in the very last sentence. "Let's go back to what this show is all about," he said. "Let's play some music." Music is the very last thing the Chris Moyles Breakfast Show is all about, more's the pity. Perhaps if you exhibited the tiniest amount of interest in music, we might forgive your knuckle-dragging humour and brash sexism.

Didn’t it ever occur to the BBC that this approach is perhaps slightly condescending? They claimed for a long time that Moyles was aimed at the youth demographic. But is everyone under 30 really incapable of understanding humour that isn't sledgehammer-heavy and brutish?

What is even more reprehensible is that Moyles glories in his own ignorance – anything, such as literature or current affairs, that falls outside his narrow parameters of interest, is dismissed as “boring”. How does this calculatedly moronic approach to the world fit in with the Beeb's public service remit? By appearing to revel in his stupidity (and Moyles is a very long way from stupid) isn't he encouraging his listeners to be dumb too?

Moyles's motormouth approach only serves to reinforce the notion (true or false) that he is a cultural barbarian. The only oasis of calm during his breakfast show is when he actually plays a record, which seems to happen about three times a month.

Even then, it’s quite clear that Moyles has little or no interest in most of the bands whose songs he plays.

For a radio station that makes a virtue of the ridiculous slogan, In New Music We Trust, having a man who's so clueless about pop music running its flagship show seems a little perverse.

Indeed, I probably wouldn’t care too much about his on-mic style if he exhibited even the vaguest semblance of interest in music. After all, Radio 1 prides itself on its approach to pop music, one thing at which the British still excel.

Therefore, the news that 27-year-old Mancunian Nick Grimshaw is replacing Moyles is rather startling. Not because he's a relative unknown. No, not that. It's the fact that he really loves his music. I've actually seen Grimshaw at gigs. Radio 1 have got it right for once. Excuse me while I go and sit down.

Some sound advice - never manage a rock bandtag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a511769531970c2012-06-15T17:42:13+01:002012-06-15T16:42:13Z2012-06-15T16:42:13ZFINALLY, finally got around to reading Guns Cash And Rock 'N' Roll by Steve Overbury, a book about rock managers, which featured legends such as Peter Grant, manager of Led Zeppelin, and which transported me back to the mid-Nineties and my own pathetic attempts at band management. I had already failed at being a publicist (couldn't take the constant rejection from journalists) and a touring T-shirt salesman (kept losing my passport) so, of course, I thought I was well-equipped to take on one of the most arduous and frustrating jobs in rock'n'roll: managing a band. Band managers can never relax...DMMusic

FINALLY, finally got around to reading Guns Cash And Rock 'N' Roll by Steve Overbury, a book about rock managers, which featured legends such as Peter Grant, manager of Led Zeppelin, and which transported me back to the mid-Nineties and my own pathetic attempts at band management.

I had already failed at being a publicist (couldn't take the constant rejection from journalists) and a touring T-shirt salesman (kept losing my passport) so, of course, I thought I was well-equipped to take on one of the most arduous and frustrating jobs in rock'n'roll: managing a band.

Band managers can never relax — you're on call 24/7.

It's like parenting but without any of the good bits and all of the vomiting. Anyway, I managed a few bands and one of them even had a Top 40 hit, but one act really stood out.

I was introduced to this chap — let's call him Mike — one sunny Sunday at the Glastonbury Festival. He was a rather rotund American with a ponytail and a propensity for overusing the word "dude". It became immediately clear that he didn't have both oars in the water but I was still intrigued.

Later the same week I went round to Mike's rented house in north London to have a chat. He was wearing a native American headdress. I asked him to play me a couple of songs on the piano in the sitting room. As he did so my jaw dropped. The guy was a bona fide genius. Then it got even better. Before he started the second song he drawled: "Hey, dude, you know how these indie dudes always say that they could write a pop song but that it's too easy? They can't, that's why they're indie dudes. I can though, dude — listen to this."

I can still remember the song he played — let's call it Tiny Snowflake — more than 15 years later on the basis of just one listen. It was the kind of ballad that would have been number one for about 10 weeks. I'm not ashamed to admit that £ signs flashed before my eyes as I sat there. Finally, I was going to make a splash in the music business.

Unfortunately, things didn't go quite to plan. My personal life was a mess and I took my eye off the ball as my charge's behaviour became ever more erratic. He would yell obscenities at record company receptionists, abuse taxi drivers and browbeat photographers. At one point I had to threaten to resign as his manager if he didn't lose the hastily applied Indian warpaint he'd put on for a photoshoot for The Face. I won — but only just.

Then he was gone, back to America. The whole business of promoting and selling records was something that he thought was beneath him. Not without some justification, given his huge talent, he thought he just had to record a few songs and he'd become a star.

Last I heard, Mike was living in Hawaii, working in a pizza joint, still writing songs and still not a songwriting superstar. I continue to feel guilty that I hadn't been able to help him make it.

Sorry, Mike.

Matt Cardle, embarrassed about the X Factor? He still should be.tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a3fcc6b55a970b2011-10-12T18:52:12+01:002011-10-12T17:52:12Z2011-10-12T17:52:12ZSo, Matt Cardle feels he compromised himself on last year's X Factor but is more 'authentic' (whatever that means) now. What an utter load of tripe. He's still being manipulated, he's still not exhibiting one iota of talent. The clue? The sentence, "his new, Gary Barlow-penned single Run For Your Life." Matt, lad, in order to be compromised you need principles in the first place. You're nothing but a karaoke king. See you in the bargain bins.DM

So, Matt Cardle feels he compromised himself on last year's X Factor but is more 'authentic' (whatever that means) now. What an utter load of tripe. He's still being manipulated, he's still not exhibiting one iota of talent. The clue? The sentence, "his new, Gary Barlow-penned single Run For Your Life."

Matt, lad, in order to be compromised you need principles in the first place. You're nothing but a karaoke king. See you in the bargain bins.

Twenty years on from Nevermind - were Nirvana really any good?tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a3fcc6b495970b2011-08-30T11:47:00+01:002011-08-30T10:47:00Z2011-08-30T10:47:00ZTHE song starts with that stuttering riff, so redolent of Boston's classic More Than A Feeling, before it explodes into full colour and fierce ramblings about albinos and libido. It is, of course, Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit, the track that has become a classic rock anthem, rivalling Led Zeppelin's Stairway To Heaven for ubiquity on any radio station that countenances the guitar. It's 20 years since Smells Like Teen Spirit was released on Nirvana's second album, Nevermind. 20 years since Nirvana changed the landscape of pop music for good. By now you will have seen acres of print testifying...DMMusic

THE song starts with that stuttering riff, so redolent of Boston's classic More Than A Feeling, before it explodes into full colour and fierce ramblings about albinos and libido.

It is, of course, Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit, the track that has become a classic rock anthem, rivalling Led Zeppelin's Stairway To Heaven for ubiquity on any radio station that countenances the guitar.

It's 20 years since Smells Like Teen Spirit was released on Nirvana's second album, Nevermind.

20 years since Nirvana changed the landscape of pop music for good.

By now you will have seen acres of print testifying to the marvel of Cobain and Nirvana's music and legacy, heard journalists and radio DJs offering their homages to the Nirvana phenomenon. Maybe, like me, you're a little jaundiced by this unquestioning hero worship.

After all, what exactly is Nirvana's legacy? And were they really that good?

Let's get this straight - Nirvana were glorified one-hit wonders. Smells Like Teen Spirit was a freak, albeit a wondrous, magical one. They only wrote two more decent songs - Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle (from In Utero) and Oh, The Guilt (a limited edition split single with Jesus Lizard).

Don't worry, like many of you, I had my head turned by the hyperbole. But now we can be dispassionate and admit Nirvana were not only not much cop but their influence on pop has been mainly pernicious.

Nevermind was pretty good, albeit glossy and conservative. It was better than their tuneless debut Bleach and it has the edge on the self-pitying In Utero.

But it was a mean-spirited album and no masterpiece.

On In Bloom, Cobain even had the temerity to poke fun at fans of the band who weren't cool enough for him ("He's the one who likes all the pretty songs/And he likes to sing along/And he likes to shoot his gun/But he knows not what it means"). And this, remember, was written before they became massive.

Cobain was clearly a frightful snob.

So why was Nevermind so huge? Simple. The turn of the Eighties/Nineties was such a wretched time for music that a song as good as Teen Spirit, and a man as pretty and beset by demons as Cobain, were assured of attention and adoration. It's just a shame that many of those devotees decided to form bands and adhere utterly to Cobain's "poor me" blueprint.

You can blame all those wretched "emo" bands on Nirvana. There are armies of kids who believe that a guitar and a persecution complex makes them an artist. Well, they're wrong.

Ten million miserable black-clad kids - that is the extent of Nirvana's pitiful legacy.

Amy Winehouse dead at 27 - is she another member of the 'Stupid Club'?tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a3fcc6b492970b2011-07-23T19:49:12+01:002011-07-23T18:49:12Z2011-07-23T18:49:12ZWhen Kurt Cobain, then 27, killed himself in 1994, his mother Wendy said that, 'Now he's gone and joined that Stupid Club.' She was referring to the long list of rock stars who have died by their own hand at the age of 27: Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Brian Jones to name only a few. Now, very sadly, Amy Winehouse has died at 27. At the time of writing it's unclear what the cause of death was, so to speculate would be grossly unfair. Like Cobain, Winehouse has left us with a frustratingly meagre canon of work....DM

When Kurt Cobain, then 27, killed himself in 1994, his mother Wendy said that, 'Now he's gone and joined that Stupid Club.'

She was referring to the long list of rock stars who have died by their own hand at the age of 27: Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Brian Jones to name only a few.

Now, very sadly, Amy Winehouse has died at 27. At the time of writing it's unclear what the cause of death was, so to speculate would be grossly unfair. Like Cobain, Winehouse has left us with a frustratingly meagre canon of work. A voice and a talent like hers should have a much more substantial legacy than just two albums, 2003's promising Frank and 2006's Back To Black, which was a masterpiece of soul.

There's been little new material since Back To Black apart from her cover of The Zutons' Valerie with Mark Ronson and another cover last year, this time Lesley Gore's kitsch classic, It's My Party for a Quincy Jones tribute album.

Clearly, since Back To Black made her a star, she's become more renowned for her lurid lifestyle and, although she's been working on new material, no release date had been scheduled. I sincerely hope she's not remembered more for her drug use than her music but I'm not optimistic. Adele, at least, has much to thank Amy for - Back To Black's success in America made it easier for her to make the huge inroads she's enjoyed across the pond.

I met Amy once, way back prior to the release of Frank, and I found her witty, intelligent and sparky company. She certainly had a mischievous glint in her eye but I did not have her marked down as a potential member of the 'stupid club.' She seemed too perky, alive and confident.

The demons that have been clamped to her back in recent years were nowhere to be seen. Where did they come from? Did the pressure of fame conjure them up? Is that why she was so often drunk on stage? Did she, like Cobain, not enjoy fame? Like Cobain why did she not simply walk away? Perhaps that's why progress on her third album was so slow. Maybe she didn't want the attention focused back on her again.

Again, why didn't she just walk away?

It's desperately sad when someone who brought so much joy to so many dies unnaturally young. It really, really stings. But let's please remember just how talented she was. R.I.P. Amy.

Mercury Music Prize - it's all about the girlstag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a73d81cb54970d2011-07-20T11:10:53+01:002011-07-20T10:10:53Z2011-07-20T10:10:53ZWow, just where are the boys? The music industry's obsession a few years back with run-of-the-mill indie rock (hi there, Pigeon Detectives) has certainly backfired. As a result, this year's Mercury shortlist is bereft of a great rock album. Of the males on the list, only Tinie Tempah has made a geniunely exciting record and it's arguable that he really needs the extra publicity a Mercury win is supposed to generate for its winner. Indeed the inclusion of last year's worst mainstream album, Man Alive by Everything, Everything underlines just what a poor year it's been for rock music made...DM

Wow, just where are the boys? The music industry's obsession a few years back with run-of-the-mill indie rock (hi there, Pigeon Detectives) has certainly backfired.

As a result, this year's Mercury shortlist is bereft of a great rock album. Of the males on the list, only Tinie Tempah has made a geniunely exciting record and it's arguable that he really needs the extra publicity a Mercury win is supposed to generate for its winner.

Indeed the inclusion of last year's worst mainstream album, Man Alive by Everything, Everything underlines just what a poor year it's been for rock music made by men.

So who should win? Well, as I earlier intimated, the point of the Mercury is not, unlike the Brits, to reward commercial success but to point the listening public in the direction of a great underappreciated album. So that rules out Adele's magnificent 21 and Tinie Tempah.

What are we left with? Anna Calvi? A good album agreed, but the fact that her main influence, PJ Harvey, is also on the list should preclude her winning.

My choice would be Katy B's On A Mission, a thrilling slab of dance-pop that owes a great deal to the most important pop music development of the last five years, dubstep.

It's also an album that, like The Xx's winner last year, and Elbow the year before, feels thoroughly, deeply British. And isn't that most of the point?

Why on earth would parents expect a pop star to be a role model?tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a511769547970c2011-06-21T11:02:08+01:002011-06-21T10:02:08Z2011-06-21T10:02:08ZWould you want Amy Winehouse babysitting your kids on a Saturday night while you pop out for a curry? Of course not. For one thing, it wouldn’t be worth the cost of the electric fence you’d need to erect around your drinks cabinet. Then why are we getting into such a froth about the behaviour of pop stars and football players? Are we really such a nation of inept parents that we need entertainers to become role models? Seriously, any mother or father who really thinks that their child will be irrevocably damaged by the new Rihanna single or by...DM

Would you want Amy Winehouse babysitting your kids on a Saturday night while you pop out for a curry?

Of course not. For one thing, it wouldn’t be worth the cost of the electric fence you’d need to erect around your drinks cabinet.

Then why are we getting into such a froth about the behaviour of pop stars and football players? Are we really such a nation of inept parents that we need entertainers to become role models?

Seriously, any mother or father who really thinks that their child will be irrevocably damaged by the new Rihanna single or by news of the sexual shenanigans of Ryan Giggs has singularly failed as a parent.

Back in the Fifties many parents were outraged by Elvis Presley’s hips. I’m sure some of the saucier aspects of William Shakespeare’s plays caused a few ripples amongst the moral guardians of the 16th and 17th century. 'Twas always thus.

Parents should be role models for children. Parents should shoulder the responsibility for children’s moral welfare. They shouldn’t rely on JLS or David Beckham.

Anyway, recent research suggests that our kids aren’t quite as dumb and impressionable as we’d sometimes like to think. According to this research 81% of children said that their parents were better role models than pop stars and footballers.

So, don’t like the look of a TV show or the new Rihanna single? Then use the ‘off’ button and engage with your children, interact with them. It may take a little more effort than just sitting mutely in front of a TV screen but it works. It really is that simple.

The new Lady Gaga album, Born This Way - is it any good?tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a73d81cb55970d2011-05-20T11:31:42+01:002011-05-20T10:31:42Z2011-05-20T10:31:42ZLady Gaga Born This Way (Polydor) **** Blimey. This is a bit of slap round the chops for those of us who thought that Lady Gaga was all trousers (and meat dresses) and no mouth. Because while she’s been selling 22m albums worldwide and dominating the front pages of almost every newspaper on the planet, there have been some of us who just didn’t buy it. Her extravagantly creative stage (and offstage) costumes are admirably bizarre and adventurous. She looks exactly how I want a 21st century pop star to look. Who wants cider when you can have champagne? All...DM

Lady Gaga

Born This Way

(Polydor) ****

Blimey. This is a bit of slap round the chops for those of us who thought that Lady Gaga was all trousers (and meat dresses) and no mouth. Because while she’s been selling 22m albums worldwide and dominating the front pages of almost every newspaper on the planet, there have been some of us who just didn’t buy it.

Her extravagantly creative stage (and offstage) costumes are admirably bizarre and adventurous. She looks exactly how I want a 21st century pop star to look. Who wants cider when you can have champagne?

All the best stars in pop history, from David Bowie to Bjork, knew that how they looked was part of the performance. Their music was an extension of the extravagant personae they developed. They made groundbreaking, scintillating pop music that reflected their creativity. Their outlandish looks complemented their often startling music.

But, until Born This Way, Lady Gaga was only half the package. Her music was drab, no frills, no thrills, pop-dance and was indebted to the cheesier end of Eighties pop. Indeed Bad Romance, from the eight track EP The Fame Monster that succeeded 2009’s debut album, The Fame, was heavily influenced by Boney M, a Seventies pop embarrassment.

It’s almost as if people were buying her image rather than her music.

But not anymore. Born This Way is a genuinely thrilling, exciting album, an album that sounds as though it was, er, born, from one person’s singular vision, Gaga’s herself.

Sure, lead single, Born This Way, is Madonna’s Express Yourself in leather chaps and wearing far too much eyeliner. It’s one of the weakest tracks here. There are other flaws too. On You And I, luckily buried towards the rear of the album, Gaga inexplicably decides to channel her rock chick inner self, the result being the kind of awful power rock ballad that should only be sung by Scandinavian men in tight trousers with hair the size of Jupiter.

More representative of the delights contained herein, however, is the lead track Marry The Night, which quickly establishes that Gaga has a stronger voice than her most obvious influence, Madonna, before exploding into brash, pumped-up Eurodisco.

If the album cover, which sees Gaga styled not a little like Marilyn Manson, hasn’t told you she’s about to embrace her dark side then this song will, all pulsing synths and unusually sombre lyrics: ‘I’m gonna marry the dark / Gonna make love to the stark / I’m a soldier to my own emptiness.’ This is not the usual fluffy (hello The Saturdays) or overtly sexual (hi there, Rihanna) fare we’ve come to expect from our wee popstrels. This is grown-up music.

Not that this will convince those who will still dismiss Lady Gaga as pop froth. Judas, despite featuring an almost grumpy Grace Jones-like verse, has taken stick for its sweet Abba-esque chorus. Those that feel that Gaga is too pop are somehow missing the point. It’s like having a go at a kettle for boiling water too efficiently. It’s what she does, people.

But she’s not done it this well before. If Judas establishes for the first time a trademark Gaga sound (the dark sweetened by the light), then the mighty The Edge Of Glory, a proper rock-disco anthem that should come with its own lighter to be waved during the chorus, emphasises that she’s really found her feet. It even features saxophone from Bruce Springsteen’s veteran sax player, Clarence Clemons.

Hair, meanwhile, a song with the most insidious chorus of Gaga’s short career, equates tonsorial freedom to personal freedom, and doesn’t manage to make that sound dumb and Scheisse, although ostensibly a fairly blatant attempt to generate controversy in Germany (check your English-German dictionaries), underlines Gaga’s philosophy (‘If you’re a strong female, you don’t need permission.’), all the while being driven by the kind of propulsive, tuneful techno that swamps this terrific album.

Lady Gaga is not just all style and no guile – wow, what a shocker.

Britain's Got Talent's Amanda Holden needs to learn some mannerstag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d8341c565553ef01a73d81cbcf970d2011-04-30T21:48:21+01:002011-04-30T20:48:21Z2011-04-30T20:48:21ZWhat is Amanda Holden famous for? Incredible acting talent? Er, no. Singing? Absolutely not. I'm still not sure how she's qualified to be a talent judge. Apart from identifying with those who have very little talent, that is. So her unutterably arrogant interruption of Herbie Armstrong's astounding performance tonight on Britain's Got Talent is unforgivable. Armstrong's delicately beautiful voice was the best aspect of the series so far, so why Holden felt the need to stop him, mid-performance, from singing his own, lovely composition is beyond me. The little madam needs to learn some manners and to appreciate real talent...DM

I'm still not sure how she's qualified to be a talent judge. Apart from identifying with those who have very little talent, that is. So her unutterably arrogant interruption of Herbie Armstrong's astounding performance tonight on Britain's Got Talent is unforgivable.

Armstrong's delicately beautiful voice was the best aspect of the series so far, so why Holden felt the need to stop him, mid-performance, from singing his own, lovely composition is beyond me.

The little madam needs to learn some manners and to appreciate real talent when she sees it. She certainly won't see it in the mirror.